A Little Something to Take the Edge Off
by Riathe Mai
Summary: E/O Challenge. Set sometime during season seven; between Death's Door and Repo Man. Summary: Sam's hurt and Dean is taking care of him. Chapter eleven: Redefining Awesome. Triple Drabble: When you've had to make do with next to nothing, a little bit of something can be awesome. Chapter twelve: Like a Charm. There is just something magical about a wounded/sick/sad Sam.
1. Something to Take the Edge Off

**E/O Challenge: Nip**

_**Nip**: -n: a small vessel holding half-pint or less of alcoholic liquor_

**Spoilers**: This takes place sometime during season seven.

**A/N #1**: As always, thanks to Kailene.

**Summary**: They're out of booze and low on cash, but Dean is not going to let that stop him.

-SPN-

A Little Something to Take the Edge Off

"D-n? Where're y'goin?"

"Back inna sec."

I'm out of the car before Sam responds, bolting into the Mini-Mart. We're out of booze; and whatever Sam may think, we're not getting through tonight without a little something to take the edge off.

Gotta make this good, though. I have two bucks in my pocket and plastic's out with the Leviathans still on our asses.

I point to the scratch tickets on the back wall. When the clerk turns, I snag three nips from the bin and tuck them away. I buy the tickets and leave.

Now, to go stich up Sam.


	2. A Little Flattery Pays Off

**E/O Challenge**: Darling

**Darling**: -_n: an affectionate or familiar term of address._

**Spoilers**: This takes place sometime during season seven.

**A/N** #1: As always, thanks to Kailene.

A/N#2: For LeighAnnWallace who thought Dean needed a little reward for being so awesome to his 'little' brother. I hope this qualifies. :-)

Summary: A little flattery never hurt; and sometimes it pays off.

-SPN-

A Little Flattery Pays Off

Sam is sleeping. Sasquatch, he may be, but he's no match for blood loss with a whiskey-nip chaser. He should have a real bed, not a sleeping bag tossed on the floor of an empty room in an empty house; but at least it's warm and dry. Windows and doors are salted; trap on the floor, glyphs on the walls.

I sit beside him, back to the wall, gun within reach.

"C'mon, Darlin'," I say, scratching the two tickets. Luck is a Lady, and it can't hurt to treat her nice.

I smile.

_Fifty! _

And…

_Two hundred!_

"Yes!"

Darling, indeed!


	3. While you were sleeping

**E/O Challenge**: Busy

**Busy**: -_adj: actively and attentively engaged in work or a pastime._

**Spoilers**: This takes place sometime during season seven.

**A/N** #1: As always, thanks to Kailene.

**A/N #2:** Thank you to all of you who have responded to this silly, little story; and to all of you who have added it to their Favorites Lists.

**Summary**: With cash comes better accommodations.

-SPN-

While you were sleeping.

"Hey, Princess," I say before I touch him. Sam startles easily, now; and he'll bust his stitches if he comes out swinging.

He gasps, eyes flying open and finding mine. "Dean."

Not a question. Good. He knows who I am. I squeeze his arm.

"Feel like movin' on up?" I ask. "Somewhere with beds and a shower?"

"We're broke, r'member?" he slurs.

"Yeah, but while you were busy sleeping, I was busy scratching."

"Huh?" He blinks like a giant, _drunk_ barn owl.

"Lightweight," I tease. He's hurting, so I cut him some slack.

Grinning, I show him the scratch tickets.


	4. What Was in That Nip, Anyway?

**E/O Challenge**: Raw

**Raw**: -_adj: unnaturally or painfully exposed by removal of the natural covering._

**Spoilers**: This takes place sometime during season seven.

**A/N** #1: As always, thanks to Kailene.

**A/N #2:** Thank you to all of you who have responded to this silly, little story; and to all of you who have added it to their Favorites Lists. I really appreciate it.

**Summary**: Before they can move to better accommodations, Dean has to move Sam.

-SPN-

What Was in That Nip, Anyway?

Getting a mostly out-of-it Sammy off the floor is a bitch.

Cramming him into the front seat of our latest but not-so-greatest crap car is the bitch's bitchy big sister.

"Little help here, Sasquatch!" I groan.

"Gettin' 'slittle as pos'ble," Sam mumbles.

Damn, if he doesn't try, though; hissing sharply when he pulls his stitches twisting to right himself in his seat.

He pales.

"I got ya," I say, steadying him as he breathes through the pain.

He looks up at me, his eyes glassy and his expression raw. "I know."

"God, ya girl. What was in that nip, anyway?"


	5. Paying it Forward

**E/O Challenge**: Scavenge

**Scavenge**: -_v: to search; especially for food._

**Spoilers**: I'm still not sure exactly when in season seven this story takes place.

**A/N** #1: As always, thanks to Kailene.

**A/N #2:** Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed, and those of you who have added this to their alerts.

**Summary**: Lady Luck blew them a kiss. He's just paying it forward.

-SPN-

Paying it Forward

"Ma'am?"

I saw her as I entered the convenience store to cash out my tickets and get us some grub; just a sad, forgotten old woman. She ignored me; her gaze fixed on the closing pizza joint next door, waiting to scavenge through their dumpster undisturbed.

She looks at me, now. "Ain't much," I say. "Just some sandwiches and a cup'a coffee."

Tears form, but she smiles. "Bless you."

Our life's been crap, lately. But tonight, Lady Luck blew us a kiss. We'll sleep in beds; have a hot shower and a hot meal.

She won't.

"Just payin' it forward."


	6. One Slice of Something Familiar

**E/O Challenge**: Pilot

**Pilot**: -_n: _(_modifier_) serving as a guide

**Spoilers**: I'm still not sure exactly when in season seven this story takes place, though apparently it's sometime after Death's Door.

**A/N** #1: As always, thanks to Kailene.

**A/N #2:** Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed, and those of you who have added this to their alerts. I really appreciate your support

**Summary: **Compared to where they'd been squatting lately, this dive was a palace.

-SPN-

One Slice of Something Familiar

As no-tell motels go, the place is a dive. Compared to where we've been squatting lately, it's heaven.

Sam walked in under his own steam, if you can call that drunken stagger walking; but he's stubborn and my hands were full, so I'll spot him points for effort if not for style.

I secure the room as Sam collapses onto the bed.

"'S'friggin' awesome, Dean!" He's in pain but he's smiling.

"Pretty sad commentary on our life, Sammy."

But, we've been drilling blind without a pilot hole since Bobby... This one slice of something familiar...

"But, yeah. It sure is."


	7. What About Next Time?

**E/O Challenge**: Clip

**Clip**: -_n: __informal_ speed

**Spoilers**: Well, I know this takes place after Death's Door and before Repo Man. Aside for that, I haven't a clue.

**A/N** #1: Thanks, Kailene!

**A/N #2:** I can't believe all the reviews and follows this story is getting. Thanks so much. You all rock!

**Summary: **He should be sleeping, but he can't

-SPN-

What About Next Time?

I should be sleeping. Who knows when we'll have beds again, right? Yet, I'm staring at the ceiling, mind racing at a mad clip, skin crawling with the dread itch of crosshairs on the center of my back.

It's adrenaline, I'm sure. Seeing Sam get sliced, diced, and julienned—again… That bit of familiar got old years ago.

He's okay, drugged horizontal on OTC-in-excess-of-the-recommended-daily-allowance; like that applies to someone his size. He's safe. Alive.

Field medicine and creative pharmacology at its best. Hoo-_effin'_-ray!

But, what about next time?

What about the injury that can't be fixed at home?

What then?


	8. The Sound of Hope Lost

**E/O Challenge**: Pillow

**Pillow**: -_n: a cloth case stuffed with feathers, foam rubber, etc., used to support the head, especially during sleep_

**Spoilers**: Well, I know this takes place after Death's Door and before Repo Man. Aside for that, I still haven't a clue.

**A/N #1: **Sorry, but this went dark.

**A/N #2:** Thanks, Kailene, for helping me name this chapter. I had nothing.

**Summary: **He realizes that it was a sound that woke him; but is it who or what he hopes it is, or does hope lost have a sound all its own?

~~~~~~~~~~SPN~~~~~~~~~~

The Sound of Hope Lost

I must have fallen asleep, because I'm suddenly wide awake with an almost choking awareness that time has passed. It's still dark; so an hour, maybe.

It's quiet, but I suddenly think it was a sound that woke me.

High.

Whining.

EMF?

I'm up and at my duffle in seconds. EMF in hand, I sweep the room.

Searching.

Hoping…?

There's nothing.

Then I hear it; the sharp screech of old bedsprings. Sam's head tosses on his pillow.

Nightmare?

Pain?

Both?

I sigh, casting the room another sweeping look. I'm no longer hoping.

Sam's right. We don't get what we want.


	9. A Natural Born Talent

**E/O Challenge**: Prepare

**Prepare**: _-verb (used with object) to put in proper condition or readiness_

**Spoilers**: Well, I know this takes place after Death's Door and before Repo Man. Aside for that, I still haven't a clue.

**A/N #1: ** Hurricane Sandy is picking up in intensity as I'm sitting here writing this. I hope I get it posted before we lose power. Every once and I while I think I should probably move away from my glass slider that is well within the drop zone of the maple tree that is swaying in the wind. I'm not in the direct path of this beast, but I know people who are. I'm praying they stay safe.

**A/N #2:** So, the last chapter went pretty dark, so I tried to lighten it up—not that I really have all that much control over any of these. These Drabbles kind of write themselves and I just sit back and watch the word count. Explains a lot, doesn't it. :-)

**A/N #3:** Thanks, Kailene, for the quick read; and for chasing off my demons. Any mistakes are entirely on me.

**Summary: **Sam has always been an overachiever. Why, some things he can do in his sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~SPN~~~~~~~~~~

A Natural Born Talent

Sam makes a small sound of distress, and I drop the EMF back into my duffle and cross to him. He's scowling in his sleep—even asleep, nobody _bitchfaces_ like my brother. I swear, it must'a been a freakin' class at Stanford.

I sigh. Nightmare, then.

I hate to wake him, but… "Sam."

I prepare to duck as I touch him, in case he comes up swinging. Instead, his eyes slit open.

"D'n? Y'a'right?"

"I'm fine," I lie. "Go back t'sleep."

He scowls again, but he drifts back to sleep.

Yup.

Bitchface 101. Bet he was top in the class.


	10. Adrenaline Does Not a Restful Slumber

**E/O Drabble Challenge: Surge & Snap**

**Surge**: _-n: a strong rush or sweep; sudden increase:_

**Snap**: _-v: to speak (words) sharply or abruptly_

**Spoilers: **Same as before. Set season seven, sometime between Death's Door and Repo Man.

**A/N: **It was bugging me that I didn't write a drabble chapter to this story for surge, so I decided to do a double drabble. I hope the second half fits enough of the additional challenge for snap requested by Fallenangel218: a little humorous brotherly banter. Can only do so much with this story. :-)

**A/N:** When I started these drabbles, I never anticipated how much we all were going to be longing for those brotherly moments: you know, brother looking after brother; and really, that's what this whole story has been about. Sam's hurt and Dean is taking care of him. This chapter is gratuitously just that. This is unbetaed, so it's entirely on me.

**Summary: **Adrenaline does not a restful slumber make. That explains why Dean is awake, but not Sam.

~~~~~~~~~~SPN~~~~~~~~~~

Adrenaline Does Not a Restful Slumber Make

It's a little after five AM. I gave up on trying to fall back to sleep an hour ago. After that adrenaline surge with the EMF, sleep was a lost cause.

I'm sitting at the table by the window nursing my shot nerves and cold coffee when Sam wakes.

"Dean?"

I think that's what he says. His voice sounds rough—no-name Gas-n-Sip whiskey rough.

I start to answer when he looks at my empty bed.

He bolts up, searching.

Panic becomes pain, but I'm already moving. I catch him as he folds over his injured side.

"So stupid," he gasps.

~~~~~~~~~~SPN~~~~~~~~~~

"Ya think?" I snap harsher than I mean, but seriously. "You pop those stitches an' I'll pop you!"

I try to push him down but he resists.

"Jus'a'sec," he says dropping his head to my shoulder. "Time'zit?"

"Early."

"Why're you up?"

"'Cause y'snore. Come on. Lay back down."

Surprisingly, he does. I check his bandages but there's no blood.

"Lucky," I tell him.

He huffs. "Wouldn't wanna feel unlucky."

Half inch deeper and half inch lower, and he wouldn't be feeling anything.

Instead, I say, "Need anything?" But his eyes are already closing. "Sleep, Sammy."

He stirs. "You too, Dean."


	11. 11 Redefining Awesome

**E/O Challenge:** Snow / Tongue / This Might Sting

**Spoilers: **Set season seven, sometime between Death's Door and Repo Man.

**A/N1: **Christmas really smacks me around, so I fell behind on some of these words. I also realized that I hadn't added anything to this story for a while. I decided to fix that.

**A/N2: **Thanks to all of you who have reviewed and followed and favorited this story. I really appreciate it. Thanks, Kailene; for the beta, for the pep talks, and for not being afraid to tell me when a story needs a little more.

**Summary:** It's amazing how awesome something can be when you haven't had it in a while; and when you've had to make do with next to nothing, a little bit of something can be awesome.

~~~~~~~~~~SPN~~~~~~~~~~

**Redefining Awesome**

For a dive, the shower is pretty decent. With what we've had to make do, lately, I'd have been satisfied with water that wasn't half a degree warmer than snow-melt. But it's bordering on hot with room on the dial to spare.

It feels a-_freakin'-_mazing!

The pressure isn't great, but that's probably a good thing. While I wouldn't mind it pummeling my aching body into submission, I don't think Sam could take the abuse right now.

He couldn't take the cold, right now, either; not stitched up as he is, like Frankenstein's Bride.

That's the _only_ reason I don't linger.

-SPN-

Sam's awake when I emerge from the bathroom in jeans and a cloud of steam.

He's sitting on the edge of the bed; eyes closed, hands clenched, and face ashen. His breath is ragged.

"Dammit, Sam," I start to lay into him. He should have waited for my help!

I bite my tongue. He knows it now; and if he doesn't, I'm sure my expression is saying it all and more. Instead, I just hand over water and Ibuprofen.

"How's the shower?" he asks.

"Awesome."

He frowns. "That word doesn't mean what it used to, Dean."

"It does today, Sammy."

-SPN-

"Wha'did I tell ya?" I ask as Sam emerges from his shower.

"Awesome."

He's lying. I can tell. He's got thirty stitches in his side. It sucked!

He's got a death grip on the doorjamb. I'm not about to wait to see what hits the ground first, him or his undone jeans.

My money's on him which makes it kind of moot.

I grab our kit and help him to the bed. He tries to resist but the antiseptic spray is non-negotiable.

"This might sting," I warn.

"_Might_?" he says through gritted teeth. "I'm getting you a new dictionary, Dean."


	12. 12: Like a Charm

**E/O Challenge:** Charm

_**Charm**__:-v: to act upon (someone or something) with or as with a compelling or magical force_

**Spoilers: **Set season seven, sometime between Death's Door and Repo Man.

**A/N3: **So, I'll admit. I had this one written last week, but I didn't have a title for it. Plus, I wasn't happy with the huge jump in events with this story. Kailene agreed, and she encouraged me to try to fill in the space with the words I hadn't done yet. I was hoping to get that done before the deadline, but it took longer than I'd planned. My writer's block turned out to be a good thing for this story. So, thank you, Kailene!

**A/N2: **I love season 8, so far, but I miss those moments of brother taking care of brother that has always been the heart and soul of Supernatural. This whole story is a gratuitous and unapologetic, self-indulgent attempt to fill the void. Sam's hurt and Dean is taking care of him.

**Summary:** There is just something magical about a wounded/sick/sad Sam that can charm sympathy out of a stone statue; and Dean has no qualms about using that to their advantage, even if he has to lie about the circumstances.

~~~~~~~~~~SPN~~~~~~~~~~

**Like a Charm**

Sam looks like crap on toast; but he needs to eat and not hunched over in the car.

It's early but the diner's empty. The waitress... She's old and stone-faced. She takes in Sam's pale, pain-stooped appearance and scowls.

I'm not about to let her dump her grump all over him, and I know just how to charm a sympathetic smile out of her.

"Drive-through surgery," I explain—lie—conspiratorially, as I help him into the booth.

Just like that, she goes from gargoyle to grandma; cooing and _you-poor-dear-_ing.

"What can I get you, honey?" she asks him.

That's better.

~~~~~~~~~~SPN~~~~~~~~~~

_AN: I don't know if this is a generally recognized term or more of a regional (US) slang, but _Drive-through Surgery_ is a term used—usually disparagingly—to describe a surgical procedure that is done on an out-patient basis (patient is sent home within hours of having the procedure) not because the doctors feel the procedure is simple but because the _insurance company and hospital administration_ have deemed the risk of post-operative complication too low to warrant the cost of a longer stay. You might be mortified at what types of surgeries fall under this heading._


End file.
